Bury Me In Black
by Ailinn
Summary: After the murder of his mother, a desolate Draco finds himself harassed by a sarcastic ghost stuck in the body of seven year old and the object of pity from the boy who lived to annoy.
1. Chapter 1

Bury Me In Black

The floors were like ice.

I had never noticed before, never taken the time to think about it.

I seemed to have all the time in the world, suddenly. I hovered in the doorway, unable to make my frozen limbs move. I didn't want to go on, I wanted to roll back beneath my silk sheets and drift back to unconscious fantasies.

But I couldn't.

A scream ripped violently through the manor and I found myself padding along the corridor, submerged in darkness of the shadows that clung to the walls. The cold stone brushed roughly against my shoulder, shocking me further more into consciousness.

Malfoy manor was a maze of grey floored corridors and green satin covered rooms, that led into each other in confusing circles until it made you dizzy. Father used to say that unless you knew you way, it was near impossible to escape from the hundreds of chambers and hallways.

Now, in the gloom of the night my path was unpleasantly illuminated before me, marked by vibrant splatters of crimson_. Brilliant._

My hand unconsciously grazed the wall, nails making a little scratching sound as I walked, I would have winced any other day at the echo it created, but I doubted any one would be able to hear it over the howls and shrieks that were bouncing agonisingly around.

The arrows of blood grew thicker and darker as I came closer, my heart had stopped and was residing in my throat. The study, complete with rows of untouched books; thick spined and golden lettered, loomed in front of me. The wailing had stopped now, leaving behind a worse menacing silence that had engulfed me. I found myself unable to breath as I opened the door.

The elaborate handle was sticky and slipped through my fingers as I tried to grab it. It slid away from me, creaking in its dry hinges and disappearing into the room.

The shadows were undistinguishable in the darkness. It had created an unbearable blackness, that stood before me like a wall, baring my way. I was frozen once again, my arms coming to wrap around my shoulder before I commanded them to my sides, I wouldn't be weak. I shivered unwillingly at the draft that circled my ankles wishing I was still in bed.

I found myself stumbling into the bleak room, non the less.

"Hello?" I called out stupidly, honestly expecting someone to answer me in my fear induced state. I groped at myself for my wand, cursing anxiously when I realized I couldn't find it.

" eleven inches, Ebony , Dragon heart-string"

The voice came echoing distantly from the dark depths of my mind.

Mr Ollivander. I remembered the way he'd stared at me, with cold eyes that had already condemned me. Just like everyone else. I wasn't my father, no matter what people thought. Years ago I had wanted to be, I had worshipped the ground he'd walked on, but somewhere along the line the spell had shattered. Now I could barely muster up any emotion towards him, mostly I felt numb.

I tripped so suddenly I think I cried out. Landing heavily on my knees, head bowed. My eyes widened in horror as I stared into wide marble orbs that were inches from my face.

I scrambled ungracefully backwards, clawing at the floor, a sob rose in my throat, which I found myself choking on. My father's influence was hard to let go of, even now.

My back was pressed unmoving against the covered walls as I sat in silence, still unable to voice the repulsion that was gathering like bile in my mouth.

Dead eyes stared accusingly at me, the pale blue tint washed away and bleached by death. I stared in sick fascination at the corpse that was spread out in front of me, unable to look away, to close my eyes against the horror of it. Her hand was limply flung out, a desperate attempt of freedom, fingers that had coiled so hard into her palm, they had left little bloody crescents against her sheet white skin.

Her hair was splayed around her fragile face, a silver halo against the darkness, broken by radiant lines of red. She had never looked more angelic, than she did then. A fallen angel in her long form fitting robes, made from the palest green, that pooled like liquid around her little feet.

I stared, struck dumb in my grief.

I had never grieved for anyone before, it was a horrible new emotion that left dots dancing in my vision and made the shadows dance around me.

It become my longest night as I waited. I didn't move, scared that I would break the spell of false peace that was laid suffocating over both of us. Me and my mother. After a while she didn't look so horrifying, so dead. She spoke in broken fragments a while later. Something taunting, sometimes screaming.

But I didn't care. So what if she shouted at me, so what if she screamed at me or if she hated me. At least she would be here, living and then I wouldn't have to tell myself that it was my fault that she was dead. Then I wouldn't have to accept the fact that I had let her be murdered.

"It isn't real," she whispered flatly. "Not really"

I nodded, or maybe not, I couldn't tell anymore.

"Draco"

"Draco?"

Cold dead hands grasped my shoulders. I screamed then, all the emotion pouring out, that I had been trying to bind and hide somewhere inside myself all night. I found myself kicking and hitting, clawing at the pliable skin that was touching me, I couldn't see as tears streamed fearfully down my face. It was her murderer, they had come back for me.

"What the hell…" the voice. Not her voice, something worse.

Lucius's face was like porcelain. Hard and white as his steel eyes swam in my vision. His hand struck my face suddenly, sending blossoms of pain into my clouded mind.

"Stop crying" he said, no, ordered. His tone sneering in disgust.

Couldn't he see her? Couldn't he smell her, the stench of death and blood was heavy and pungent in air, or maybe that was my mind again. I couldn't tell anymore, an image of her standing near the fireplace, laughing at me; swam in and out of view as I choked back on my sobs, trying to please my father out of habit. Not of want anymore, I hated my father.

I was sprawled across the study room floor, unable to move, enthralled by her cruel laughter.

Lucius's marble hands gripped my arms, even at 16, he seemed so big to me. He dragged me roughly upright, but my knees buckled making me kneel at his feet, falling forward into his outstretched arms. His steel eyes were melting into liquid mercury, hot and cold in face a I watched him.

"Draco? Draco!" he called, his voice distant through all the fog that was wrapping around me.

"hmmm" I tried to speak, but my tongue was thick and frozen in my mouth. My head lolled forward, rolling around my limp shoulders. His hand struck again, my check burned as I swallowed my cry of pain.

"Stand up" he commanded.

I shook my head, trying to twist around to see the body. His finger were suddenly coiled into my fair hair, ripping sharply. I moaned softly, unable to look away from his steady eyes. "Stand up, son" he added the word softly, coaxing.

I tried, I truly did. But my legs had long ago clamped up and exhaustion had settled heavily upon me. His rock hard arm slid around my back, grimly forcing me upwards.

I collapsed against him as we moved from the room, hating myself for the weakness. Hating my father more for seeing it, I wanted to please him suddenly. I wanted him to love me. I needed him because he was all I had left.

I didn't look back. My father had me now, he would take care of everything.

He led me along the corridor, his face hard and cold as he peered ahead into the gloom. One hand gripped me painfully hard beneath the shoulders, his sharp fingernails cutting into the flesh, while the other trailed almost bored against the wall.

He mustn't have seen her, I thought. He must have only seen me in that room, not Narcissa. I tried to tell him. But my tongue was swollen and latched to the roof of my mouth.

My bed was cold and unwelcoming as he led me to it. I shivered against the green silks.

"Stay here" he told me.

"She's dead" I whispered, my voice hoarse and painfully small.

Lucius paused in the doorway, white fingers slowly caressing the doorframe, "I'm sorry you had to see that" he said softly. Then he was gone, leaving me in the darkness of my cold menacing room.

I sank heavily into the bed, unable to feel anything as numbness swept over me.

I wondered dimly if I would see her, when I closed my eyes. But exhaustion over took my thoughts and I fell in to sweet oblivion.

* * *

_First of all, I offer no promises that i will ever finish this, because of time and lack of muse. (but i do hold the next chapter hostage)_

_But please review and tell me what you think anyway._


	2. Chapter two

Chapter two

Breakfast had become a strained affair.

I would sit slumped over my plate, unable to force the unwanted the food down my throat not able to bring myself to make conversation.

Not that Lucius tried more than I did. After that night, nearly month ago he had barely said anything to me, even at her funeral. We only had breakfast with each other because it seemed appropriate, I sometimes thought he didn't feel anything.

I had seen him standing blank faced in front of the study from a distance, but not once had he ever shown a lick of emotion towards the death of his wife. I myself was desolate, I would have been happy to waste away in my grief and nightmares, but he couldn't have that, I was his only son, his heir.

So we had created a strange, uncomfortable routine. Every morning I would be dressed and dragged downstairs by house elves, through I barely noticed their existence. Then we would sit at the dinning room table and pretend that we wanted to be near each other. I wished we could have meet somewhere else, it was cold and big and lonely. I longed sometimes for school to begin, at least I would be surrounded by people. But most of the time I didn't think of anything.

Lucius would watch me hawk-eyed as I bit pathetically at my toast. He would ask what I had done the other day, sometimes I would answer, sometimes I wouldn't. We sat uneasily for the next hour, until he left for work.

Then I would be left alone.

Maybe if I was stronger I would have fought against the horror that had consumed me, I would occupy my mind to keep the images at bay. I might even had been able to try and make peace with the demons that haunted me day and night. But mostly I locked myself in a small haven in my mind.

But it was different today.

I found myself walking, wandering aimlessly around the manor, the last remains of summer was mild and cold winds swept low to the ground, swirling around my legs, mocking the season. I avoided the study completely unable to go into it; I was scared I suppose.

Instead I found myself detouring outside, blinking against the harsh light that streamed crisp and sharp in the dew covered morning.

My arms wrapped around myself as I carried on. The grounds were untouched, grass high and sickly pale, flower beds over ground by ugly weeds. It was mother's job to make sure the garden was taken care of. I shuddered as memories filled my vision before controlling my mind and pushing myself back into imageless grief.

Usually I only went outside when necessary in summer, since my skin burns annoyingly easy, I doubt I have ever had a tan in my life. But I found myself going further and further into the unexplored gardens, we had so much land, I found myself wondering if we really needed it all.

No, it didn't matter if we did or not. I shook my head and plodded on, purposely standing on any flower in my path. I watched with sick glee as the small red flower was crushed beneath my shoe, angrily rubbing my toe into the smashed petals.

Well I never claimed to be nice.

The trees suddenly parted, leaving me standing in the middle of a brilliantly red coloured stone circle.

The circle of stone was shadowed by massive unkempt trees that grew over it, limbs reaching out to its centre, branches coiling together like a make-shift roof, I wondered dimly how long it had been since anyone had been here. But my attention was captured by the circle's centre peace. In the middle was an angel. It was crouched gracefully on a podium, legs tangled in stone robes, feet curling over the edge of its platform. It body slightly arched upwards, face turned to the sky.

I stared at it, out of habit concealing my awe, someone had once told never to show any admiration towards anything or anyone it could be used against you.

I frowned angrily. This was also the people whom had told me and my family was untouchable and now my mother was… I choked and spun back to angel closing the lid on emotions I didn't know how to deal with and let the perfection of the stone angel wash over me.

Never had I seen anything as beautiful as the greying stone statue. Its face was framed by wild windswept hair, haloed by wings that erupted from its back rising over its head. Detailed stone-feathers spread almost touching from either wing. It seemed to breathe, its mouth looked as if was going to curl up and speak. It looked alive.

I sat down gingerly, shivering at its base, staring up into stone eyes that looked upwards away from me.

"Hello" I said almost silently, feeling a blush rise across my checks at my actions. Still I paused stupidly as if expecting a reply.

I rested my head against the stone leg; it was warm. My eyes flickered shut silently and I was blessed with white nothingness, my demons had been left in the manor and I was Draco Malfoy again.

Annoying, arrogant, rich and wonderfully alive.

My mind blossomed before me, it was raw with pain, but it was me. Not the shadow that I had become. I sighed in contentment, not wanting to break this new peace.

"Who are you?"

My eyes snapped open, I peered through heavy lids at the blurry outline of a person in front of me. Massive eyes stared at me; shocked.

"I said who are you?" she repeated.

The girl, the child was standing wavering in front of me. She was so small, a big gust of wind looked as if it would blow her away. Her little pale hands curled up in front of her, pressed against her white material covered chest.

"Draco Malfoy"

Something flickered across her face, something dark that made her eyes narrow and her little cupid's bow mouth curl up in anger. "This is my spot" she told me hotly, "and you're in it."

I smirked at her, flashing my teeth in an irritating way that I had perfected by the time I as three. "And your point would be…."

Her eyes narrowed, blue turning grey as they hardened, the intensity of her anger was wrong somehow. "Move, brat"

I watched her annoyed, unable to think of anything to say. She was at most a quarter of my size, with skin impossibly pale, it looked drained of any blood, almost translucent. No, it was translucent.

I leapt to my feet suddenly, "You're dead" I stated dumbly.

She raised one pale eyebrow at me, managing to look down at me, even through her head didn't come up to my waist. "I didn't notice" she said flatly, the dry humour was so wrong in her child's voice.

I hate ghosts, I loathe them. I abhorred the thought of ever being stuck on earth in a weak unchangeable form. Ghosts never moved on, they choose to stay, they gave up the right of moving on. They stayed because they were weak and scared, and I hated them because I thought that one day I might join them.

"Go away, ghost" I told her.

"How imaginative" she sneered, her pale face was like bleached paper, shadows didn't quite touch her but neither did light. She was illuminated from the inside, her eyes glowing eerily sapphire at she peered at me.

She was dressed in a thin wind blown white dress, which was tight on her chest and shoulders, and hung loosely in a number of fine layers over her feet, her toes were deathly pale and bare just scraping the floor. Her little arms crossed angrily.

"Stop gapping at me, farm boy." She ordered, tossing back her hair. It was virgin-snow white like everything else about her.

I sneered back at her, sinking gracefully with practiced ease back onto the Angel's base, I shifted uneasily against the cold material, glaring at her all the while.

She looked disgusted at me "I didn't contaminate the stone, you're not going to drop dead." she paused "more's the pity"

I glowered, " can't you go annoy someone else?"

She looked disgruntled at me, "Actually you're the first person in three generations that can see me"

"Oh the joy" I said irritated, "I feel so privileged"

She really looked sickened now, which was hard emotion to pull off with her skin, I was almost impressed.

She hovered closer suddenly, wide blue eyes contradicting the innocence of her appearance.

"What are you doing?" I asked anxiously, I hated the feel of ghost almost as much as I hated the thought of being one.

Her hand stretched closer, "I just want to…feel it" she told me irritation lacing her voice as she spoke down to me. Her short little fingers hovering above my check, her face had taken on a dreamy look, making her look like the seven year old child whose body she was confined in.

I backed away, pressing myself against the hard stone behind me, it was like a barrier suddenly, blocking my path. Those beautiful stone features were cold and hard as they looked away from me. I tried to curl away from her. "stop" I whispered. Her eyes weren't sapphire they were pale blue like my mothers. I shuddered at the thought of Narcissa, and the girl was my dead mother suddenly, her features twisting with loathing.

Her fingers violently stabbed towards me breaking the spell with their clumsiness, my mother was never anything but graceful. Her hand slipped on my skin, but she didn't go through me, cold waves engulfed my face, radiating from the ghost's flesh.

A woman was standing on the brink. The edge of what I didn't know, maybe an abyss? I could barely see everything, the world was bathed in scorching white light, the seemed to radiate from the thing just in front of her. There was someone behind me, silenced in fear, maybe. The woman turned towards me, or maybe the person that was frozen in the vision.

"Thank you" she said beaming.

This image dissolved leaving me shaking with the force of it. I stared at the child ghost who was slumped over me her eyes wide with surprise. "Why you" she asked me, face curled up in accusation. Her eyes openly displaying her dislike of me.

"I'm Monique" she told me, sliding away from me. Her eyes critically running up and down my thin frame. "You need to eat more"

As I stared at her, her nose wrinkled again making her look very child like. "You need to brush you hair, too, you look like a hedgehog in shock"

My hands came quickly to rest on my head, "What are you doing?" I asked incredulously.

"I helping you of course?" she said it patronizingly, her little hands resting on her hips.

"I don't want your help" I snarled it hatefully. She flinched away from me, her face reflecting my anger.

"But you need it…" she trailed off, backing away as I rose to my feet. I glared down at her ghost face, she seemed to notice suddenly that she was tiny and fragile and stepped further away from me.

"Draco, you don't understand, " she called, "I need it…"

I ignored her, as I stormed away, "leave me alone!" I shouted back,

"you ignorant little git, you loathsome brat!" she howled, gliding after me, "I hate you, I hate all you bloody Malfoys"

I came to the edge of the circle and broke into a run. The trees tore at my clothes with horrible sharp fingers that left thin red lines on my arms, I barely noticed. The gardens dissolved behind me and I was back in the dark coolness of the manor.

I was in my room seconds later, my skin now unpleasantly red and inflamed. I cursed beneath my breath, angrily ripping the thin torn material open, throwing it lazily in a pile on the floor.

My room, was adorned with Quidditch memorabilia. My first broom was mounted on the wall, sighed posters held flying figures, forever repeating complex patterns. My school books were scattered across more desks and shelves than I ever used. Delicate chairs covered with green silk cushions were spread around the floor. My bed, four poster with emerald curtains seemed small in the magnitude of my room.

But it seemed cold and impersonal, now more than ever.

I stalked, still cursing about ghosts into the bathroom, an elaborate marble covered room. A face in the mirror stared blankly back at me. I hovered nearer, repulsion showing in my eyes., I couldn't remember the last time I'd examined myself, I couldn't remember the last time I'd thought about it.

My checks were hollow and dark with shadows, the bones in my face too prominent and delicately thin making my face sharp and cold. My skin was a translucent sickly colour, eyes sunken into my face, dead eyes. Like my mother's.

I flinched away. My collar bone shifted like a blade beneath my pale skin as I moved away, my ribs were like bars across my chest. I had hovered the line between lean and skinny my whole. But I had passed it quite a bit, I realized.

Disgusted I turned away, stepping into the steamy shower. My eyes flickered shut unconsciously against the water, that dripped heavily from my eyelashes. I leaned against the wall, sighing in relief. Memories filled my vision, looming in the gloom beneath my closed eyes. Demons rushed at me, cackling in menace.

Her wide dead doll eyes stared at me, _if you'd just been a little bit quicker, if you hadn't hesitated._

I bolted up staggering across the shower so quickly, my skull hit the opposite wall. I groaned, my hands gingerly coming to grip my pounding skull. Just my luck. I gritted my teeth, silently cursing everything I could think of. I was doing a lot of that lately.

Narcissa and I had never been particularly close. Not really. We had an uncomfortable lunch every other day, in her powdered, perfume choked rooms, but I loved her, she was my mother. She has held me as I screamed in her arms at the news of Lucius going to Azkban, she had gripped my hand as he had come back. She had sent me sweets and gifts nearly every week since I had first gone to Hogwarts.

I loved the way she had laughed, when she truly laughed, not with all that politeness that her parties required, but when the lines showed on her checks and her lips had thinned she had been grinning so much.

Somehow, I loved her more now that she was dead. I longed to hear her shouting at house elves from down the corridors. I wanted just one more proper little lunch in her little pink rooms. But I knew it would never be the same again, I knew I would never be the same again. The old Draco Malfoy was a part of me, but I had evolved, fast and in pain. I was broken, or so it felt like. I felt like I'd never be ok again. I'd never be able to wake up without help, I'd never be able to laugh.

I stepped out the shower, sending water droplets around the room. The floor quickly became a slick wet surface, deadly in its smoothness. I knew I should move, but I found myself frozen in front of the mirror. Something flickered over its surface, I was fascinated, my ugly image disappeared into the swirling vortex that erupted in blinding light upon the silver framed mirror.

"Hello Lover"

A man was staring at me, his pale eyes darkening in the gloom that surrounded him. His bleach white skin was tight over the curving, delicate, blades of bones in his face. "Come gimme a kiss"

He smiled at me, his teeth flashing as his eyes sparkled with menace.

I stared at him, captivated by his beauty, his perfection. Dark hair, slicked back, framed with heavy dusty lashes.

His face disappeared, releasing me, I slipped slightly in the puddles around my feet, staggering towards the golden door that led to my bedroom. I was scared, I won't deny it, a ghost, demons and now this…images in a mirror.

I thought I might be going mad, I wouldn't be the first. My uncle had been insane since childhood, Nathaniel had tried to stab his father when he was eleven, a well kept family secret which I had unearthed before I left for Hogwarts. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, Lucius didn't have a brother, and Nathaniel spent his days drooling in a facility somewhere in Ireland, under the influence of heavy medication. His image had given me several nightmares as a child. Lucius had decided to scare it out of me, he had taken me to see his older sibling.

Nathaniel had been a white shadow. All pulsing veins and budging eyes. But he hadn't really seemed that insane, it was the first time I had questioned anything my father had done. Later I didn't care, so what if he kept Nathaniel in mad house so he couldn't tap into our fortune, if he was out it would effect me too.

Now I shuddered at the memory, would they lock me up?

I fell onto the bed, still dripping. I just wanted to be swallowed into black oblivion. Of course the universe wouldn't allow me that peace. The cruelty of it made me want to scream.

* * *

_Hmm, what to say..._

_Ok I found this and thought i might as well post it, but unless i find another burst of inspirationtowards it, this fic will remain unfinished. _


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